


Lane 1

by salemisgay



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Competitive, DNF, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Highschool AU, M/M, Slow Burn, Swim Team, dream team highschool, dreamnotfound, god help me, they fuck in a locker room lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salemisgay/pseuds/salemisgay
Summary: Dream is in the top spot on his highschool swim team... That is, until George moves from across the fucking ocean and just HAS to be good at swimming.Basically, Dream and George compete for the top spot on their swim team...But they’re also competing for eachother, too.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 94





	1. Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First chapter is out and I’m planning on updating (hopefully) once a week if I’m not too busy!
> 
> My name is Salem and I use any pronouns, if you have any criticism or compliments I’ll be reading the comments!!

The warm water washes over George’s cold skin, small rivulets coursing over his tired muscles. He sighs into the stream, shivering despite the temperature. The chlorination from the pool water has left his skin feeling dry and itchy, and he resists the urge to rake his fingernails over his shoulders until they burn from the pain.

When he was a little kid, George developed the habit of scratching his skin when he was nervous, or when things began to get too much. The constant scratching made him relax, but it also left his body with small, angry markings. Though he broke the habit long ago, George still finds himself scratching absentmindedly. 

Voices around him startle his thoughts, and he is suddenly acutely aware of the rowdy boys in the locker room, yelling and snapping towels at each other, trying for a reaction. George sighs once again. If only the water was hot enough to melt him into a puddle and carry him away.

Reaching over to the handle of the shower, he shuts it off abruptly, as if to force himself to step away. The water that was once clinging to his hair in droplets now drip to the floor, joining the pool of water at the bottom of the showers, the drain obviously not working properly.

George grabs his towel from a hook and rubs it over his face until it stings. 

“You ready for Tuesday, dude?” 

As George pulls the towel off his face, his eyes focus on the figure in front of him. Nick.

Nick was the first friend George made when he moved to this city, without him, George wouldn’t have made it through his first week.

Eight months ago, George’s family uprooted from across the ocean and moved to America on account of his father’s job. While George was never the most popular at his highschool, he missed the familiar hallways and teachers that greeted him throughout his past 3 years.

He rubs his towel against his damp hair, thoughtfully. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Tuesday was the swim team’s first meet of the season, and one that George was dreading the arrival of. The thought of competing caused a pool of anxiety to bubble in his chest.

It wasn’t that George was bad at swimming, or even bad at competing. On the contrary, George was the fastest swimmer at his old highschool and his talent translated well to his new one. It was just that competing against yourself is one thing. Competing against someone else… is another.

And George did have to compete against someone. On the same team, no less.

“You’ll do great,” Nick says, his easy smile forcing George to relax. “And if you don’t, it’s the first meet of the season, you have time to improve.”

George smiles back, gratefully. “Thanks,” He wraps his towel around his shoulders like a blanket, and shivers. “There just seems to be a lot riding on this.”

Nick chuckles. He knew exactly what George meant. Knew it like nothing else.

“If you don’t beat him this time, you’ll get him eventually. I think he’s feeling that, too.”

“Right.”

The conversation lapses into silence, and George moved to his locker. It’s marked by a rudimentary drawing of a fish with his name scribbled on it, along with a sticky note that reads Just keep swimming! 

George wishes he could tear it off.

The overlapping voices serve as white noise to his thoughts, as he peels off his wet suit and dries himself off. 

Upon arriving in America, George realized that his new highschool’s swim team was not unlike his own, which made it easy for George to fit right into his new team. However, not everyone seemed keen on him fitting in.

The top swimmer three years in a row before George arrived was named Clay. Clay was a tall, lanky boy with the attitude of a bratty toddler and the self confidence of a celebrity. When George arrived, he could tell that Clay became instantly threatened. Nick could tell too.

When George had stumbled into practice at six in the morning, he hadn’t expected the events for the meet to be posted, and he certainly hadn’t expected to see both his and Clay’s name listed for the 100 free. It was obvious that the coach had sensed that Clay’s position on the team was being threatened, and wanted to see who came out on top. 

Just thinking about it made George sick. Clay bragged constantly without knowing if George really was faster than him, George did not want to know how Clay would torture him if he did know.

A locker slams shut next to him, the metal grating sound reverberating in his head. He pulls on a T-shirt and shorts, before zipping up his swim bag. He was exhausted from both the physical exertion and the mental gymnastics he’d endured throughout the day. He just needed to get home…

“George?”

Goddamnit.

He turns to the left to find a familiar face, smiling brightly. His hair had been dried, curling handsomely around his freckled face, and he was now wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, both seemingly too small. He cocked his head to the side, staring down at George with amusement. “I didn’t see you in lane one today, where were you?”

George grimaces. “I moved down a lane. Wasn’t feeling too well.”

On their swim team, they practiced in a pool consisting of eight lanes. Lane one was well known as the lane for the fastest swimmers, and Clay was the leader of it. George knew he could keep up with the swimmers in lane one, but something was keeping him from doing it.

Clay’s forehead creases in worry. “Oh, are you ok? Not too sick for Tuesday, right?”

I wish. George purses his lips, “I suppose not.”

Clay grins, forming a dimple in his left cheek. George turns away.

“Nick tells me you made it to state at your old highschool as a sophomore,” George hears Clay say. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“Thanks.” 

George knows he’s being an asshole, but at this point, he could really care less. He’s tired, overstimulated, and just downright done with everything. He wishes Clay could sense that.

“Clay, you ready to go?” Nick appears around the side of George’s locker, holding his car keys in his fist.

Thank god for Nick.

Clay nods slightly at George, his mouth drawn in a tight smile. George feels a twinge of guilt as Clay brushes past him, but it fades quickly as he hears Nick make a joke, and Clay breaking into wheezing laughter. 

George shakes his head and shuts his locker.

Maybe if he makes himself sick, he won’t have to swim on Tuesday.


	2. Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this seems a bit rushed, I’ve been really busy lately.
> 
> Also note that this is mostly a chapter used to establish characters and push the plot a bit, so if it’s boring i’m sorry!
> 
> Love you all xxx

Small droplets of water cling to the windows of the bus, gliding slowly downwards until they collect enough water to fall fast. George collects them on his fingertips, and draws a picture. A smiley face stares mockingly at him until the picture starts to drip almost menacingly. George turns away.

There is nothing he can do to stop the steady march of time and every quick beat of his heart reminds him that he doesn’t have much left.

His swim bag sits on his legs, which tremble slightly from both the cold and anxiety. George fiddles with the straps while he waits for the bus to leave his school. Waiting, he decides, is the worst part of all of this.

In just an hour or so, he will plunge into the cold water to race Clay, and around that same time he will be subject to Clay’s mockery. He sighs as he feels someone slide into the seat next to him.

“Heya,” A kind voice says, and George grins despite the puddles of anxiety welling in his chest. Nick’s warm hand brushes his shoulder.

“Hi,” George responds, stomach clenching.

Nick studies him for a moment then smiles warmly, pulling something out of his swim bag. George watches to see what it is, but Nick shifts away from his vision, jokingly. He giggles.

“What’re you hiding?” George finally asks, folding his shaking hands in his lap.

Nick laughs. “It’s a gift,” He says, not helpfully. “For you.” 

George mocks surprise. “For me?”

His friend nods, holding out a closed fist in front of George’s vision. George stares at it silently. What…?

Suddenly, Nick’s fist opens, and in his palm is a small red gummy bear. 

George can’t help himself, he snorts. “What the hell?”

Nick laughs back. “For you.”

Rolling his eyes, George takes the tasty gift and pops it into his mouth. Despite it being slightly warmer than he would’ve liked, it tastes good enough. He turns to thank Nick, but he’s already talking to a rather tall freshman across the aisle.

The boy has floppy blond hair and very bright blue eyes that crease with laughter as Nick presents him with the same present. George decides he doesn’t like the boy's annoyingly shrill laugh, but he seems nice enough.

“Hey what'd’ya think, Tommy? First meet, you nervous?” Nick asks, steadily supplying the boy and his brown-haired friend gummy bears of an unknown origin.

George is astonished that Nick already seems to know the entirety of the swim team, even the annoying freshmen that just joined this year. George never bothered to learn names, not when he usually forgets them within moments. 

“I suppose I’ll be alright,” Tommy states, nodding his head as if agreeing with himself. “It’s not like I have to race Dream or anything.”

George scoffs despite himself. ‘Dream’ was the nickname Clay gave himself on the team, and he was so self-centered that he made everyone use it. George refused to use it, as did Nick. Although Nick knew Clay for a very long time, so it was a bit different.

“George can take him,” Nick winks over his shoulder. “Right George? Ready to take his ego down a bit?”

“Sure,” George shrugs, though his voice sounds not the least bit convincing. 

“Too modest,” Nick shakes his head. “In order to be good you have to own it. You think Clay got to where he is by being modest?”

George holds his tongue. Clay? Modest?

The rest of the bus ride is drowned out by George’s thoughts. The laughter of the boys around him was giving him a headache, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the race.

Did the race really matter all that much? Or was he just that competitive? Was Clay even going to react to winning at their first meet? What if neither of them won? What if George won? Would Clay be upset?

George’s therapist always told him that during times when his thoughts became too much, he had to start thinking rationally. “No more ‘What If’s,’” she told him. “You don’t know what’s going to happen, so stop trying to guess.”

But no matter how many times George tried, he couldn’t turn his mind off. Stress was eating him alive and he was helpless to it.

The bus pulled into the highschool, and George’s heart started to beat fast enough to make him feel sick. 

He pulled his bag to his chest and stood up, following the line of boys to the school. He spotted Clay among them, smiling widely as he saw Nick step off the bus. George’s stomach flipped at the sight of him.

The entrance to the pool was open, and through it George could hear the splashing of water and chatter from the audience. He mirrored his teammates, changing into his suit and making his way into the pool. 

The room was overly stuffy, the smell of chlorine only adding to George’s headache as it hung around his head like a cloud. Only when he looked down did he realize his hands were shaking. It was barely visible, but he could feel the slight tremors. Great.

Clay looked up from his warm-up lane and met George’s eyes, his mouth turned up near the corner. “Ready George?” He asks, his smooth voice perforated George’s thoughts, and George smiled softly back.

“Ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> For all non-swimmers (and for future reference in this fic):
> 
> 100 free: four lengths of a standard size pool.
> 
> flipturn: when you reach the end of the length, you flip, and push off the wall to gain momentum
> 
> starting block: a block at the end of the pool (the deep end most likely) that swimmers will dive off of to start the race
> 
> goggles: eye covering
> 
> swim cap: a tight, mostly latex covering that goes over your hair.
> 
> If you have anymore questions, put them in the comments! Love u all xxx


End file.
